


History Has Its Eyes On You

by thomasmxller



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, But Mario Knows, Cuddling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Champions League Semi-Final, Secret Relationship, dumb idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6517483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasmxller/pseuds/thomasmxller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its the end of the season and Thomas is tired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	History Has Its Eyes On You

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Sarah for beta-ing for me + pushing me to write! I am completely Müllendowski trash right now so feel free to come complain about the lack of it with me.

The locker-room is quiet. Winning the match hadn’t been enough: the three goals at Camp Nou had proved too great an obstacle to overcome. Lewy knows the sweat is pooling in the dip above his eyebrows under the horrendous mask. He trudges over to his locker before reaching behind he head to unclip it. His arms are weak with exhaustion and his fingers fumble with the device until soft fingers still his own. One of Thomas’s hand brushes over his arm while the other removes the mask.

_We shouldn’t be doing this_ , Lewy thinks, _not here where anyone can see_. He gives Thomas a look he hopes best conveys that statement. Thomas shakes his head.

 

   ‘Just trying to help. ‘ Thomas says. ‘Nice goal today’ he continues, a smile plastered onto his face. He continues onto his own locker, his fingers skimming across Lewy’s back. He follows Thomas across the locker-room, watching as he moves from station to station. He ruffles Benatia’s hair and whispers what Robert presumes is a congratulations for his opening goal before moving onto Boa who has his head in his hands and his eyes on the floor. Lewy continues to stare as Thomas sits on the bench next to Boa and puts his arm around his shoulders, forcing him to sit up. The look in his eyes is not one of sadness or anger but exhaustion. They exchange few words before Thomas makes a face and Jerome laughs loud enough that the entire room turns to look.

 

Thomas stands and politely tells everyone to ‘Go back to your knitting. There is nothing to see here’ before clapping hands with Boa and walking away. The smile on his face never reaches his eyes.

 

Things move quickly from there. The coaches come to hustle the team into the showers for the press is waiting. In his stall, Robert can see Thomas as he rinses off. The freckles that dot his back are a familiar sight now. There are bruises that Robert recognizes and few new ones he assumes are from the game. He turns his head at a noise behind him and catches Mario’s eye.

 

Mario glances between him and Thomas, before smirking and raising one of his goddamn perfect judgmental eyebrows. Robert is quick to turn back into the hot water of his shower and finish washing before shutting off the water and pulling in towel to tie around his waist. Turning around, he notices Thomas is staring at him and does his best to show off. Thomas blushes and catches his eye. Another cough from Mario brings them back to the present and they are quick to wrap themselves up and head back into the locker room. Almost immediately, Robert is grabbed by one of the team physicians who insists on checking him as soon as his dressed and Thomas is chosen to be one of the voices of the team this evening.

 

 _It makes sense_ , Lewy thinks , _that they would ask Thomas to speak for the team_. He is, after all, the shining golden boy for his club in a way Messi never could be. It was his name the stadium shouted for 2 minutes. He was the team’s beating heart and once he stepped off the pitch, it was clear that the game had been finished. 

 

   The ride home is quiet. The media rounds had taken it out of Thomas so he dozed quietly in the front seat, his elbow in the door-jam, his head propped up by the palm of his hand pressed against his cheekbone. His eyelids fluttered with the car engine and Robert thinks if he focused enough he could _drive his car properly wow_ , he thinks remembering that he is supposed to be fully focused on the road and getting them home safely not trying to count each of Thomas’s eyelashes. He pulls into his driveway and parks before turning to wake Thomas. He stirs almost as soon as Robert places a hand on his knee and bright green eyes meet his blue ones and he can feel a smile creeping up his face. Thomas is child-like in his awakening: his hands ball themselves into fists and reach towards his eyes to wipe the sleep out of them. He stretches his back like a cat, arching in his seat and stretching his legs before letting out a yawn that turns into a moan Robert is sure for his own benefit. Sure enough, before opening his eyes for real, Thomas smirks. With a roll of his eyes, Robert throws Thomas’s bag in his lap and gets out of the car.

 

     Thomas follows and presses up against him, mumbling nonsensically into his neck as Robert tries to open the door. With a finally jiggle of the keys, the door is open and the pair stumble inside leaving bags and shoes strewn on the floor behind them. Robert moves toward the fridge, as Thomas leans against the counter next to him and blabbers about everything from thoughts on the match to upcoming ones to plans for the break. Robert is still turned around when he realizes the chattering has stopped. Alarmed, he turns to find Thomas’ back turned towards him, head down, knuckles white from the intensity with which they are gripping the counter. Wordlessly, Robert closes the fridge. Sighing softly, he makes his way to Thomas and carefully wraps his arms around his waist and, rising slightly to his toes, hooks his chin over Thomas’ shoulder and tilts his head to look at him. Thomas collapses under him, and turns around to place his forehead on Robert’s shoulder.

 

For a minute, neither man makes a sound. Robert hears their breath even out and together they remain like this, breathing softly, until ultimately Thomas decides they have been quiet long enough and lifts his head to meet Robert’s eyes.

 

‘Next season.’ Robert says, breaking the silence. ‘Everyone will be back at full health. No one will stand in our way.’

 

   Thomas laughs wryly at this. ‘It always next season isn’t it.’ His nose tickles the skin on the curve of Robert’s neck and he flinches accordingly. A cool pair of lips replaces the nose and Robert can feel Thomas smiling into his skin. He trails soft pecks up to Robert’s ear before bring the lobe between his teeth and biting down gently. Robert brings his hands from where they were resting on Thomas’s hips up to the sides of his face, bringing his lips to his own. The kiss remains chaste for but a moment before Thomas slips his tongue into Robert’s mouth and grinds his hips forward.

 

'Thomas..' Robert mumbles into his mouth,'if we keep this up..' 

 

'We'll end up showing our appliances more than they want to see,' Thomas finishes, suppressing a yawn. 

 

'Maybe some other time,' Lewy concedes,' when you won't fall asleep half way through.'

 

Thomas splutters at this, 'It was one time!' 

 

'Then lets not make it a second,' Lewy retorts, dragging Thomas in earnest now to the bedroom. 

 

Thomas must finally feel the exhaustion overtaking for he puts up no fight, allowing to be led like a child through their bedroom and into the bathroom.

 

 They brush their teeth in relative silence with Thomas attempting to elicit a laugh, making a face in the mirror, the tooth paste foam threatening to spill over his lips and down his chin. Robert can’t help but chuckle as Thomas scrambles to the sink to clean his face. He leaves a quick peck on his boyfriends cheek before mumbling about pajamas and heading into their shared bedroom.

 

Robert takes moments longer but comes to discover Thomas already lain across their bed, eyes directed at the bathroom door. He watches, unabashedly as Robert strips, his blue eyes trailing up and down what Mats’ had appropriately dubbed ‘the Body’. Robert pulls his pants up along his leg before pushing Thomas over to crawl in.

  
‘Whatcha thinking about’ Robert hums.

 

‘You.’ Thomas answers truthfully. ‘Us. The future.’

  
  
‘Well that sounds-’

 

‘Who’s gonna win the Champions League now. What am I gonna do over summer? How much longer is Pep going to stay? Who is going be leaving the club? Who are we going to be bringing in? What is the statistically likely-hood of Germany winning back to back tournaments. If the parentage of a thoroughbred is really that important like come on the ability to win can’t be totally genetic… what does that look mean?’

 

‘Nothing,’ Robert pauses. ‘I love you.’

 

Thomas’s eyes widen imperceptibly before shining with what can only be described as pure joy.

 

‘I know.’ He responds, his smile widening into an all out grin. ‘ I love you too.’

 

‘Ok enough with the cheese. It’s bedtime. We have training tomorrow.’ Lewy says unable to stay into the blinding smile Thomas is giving him.

 

Thomas lets out a humph in mock outrage. ‘But Robert,’ he proclaims, eyebrows scrunching up, ‘ we’ve only just confessed out love! The next appropriate step would be to have beautiful sensuous intercourse while staring lovingly into each others souls!’

 

Robert rolls his eyes as Thomas laughs and turns on to his stomach, laying his head on Robert's chest and wrapping one arm around his waist. 

 

'Goodnight.' Thomas mumbles as his nuzzles into Lewy's chest as he would a pillow. 

 

Robert drops a quick kiss on his temple and watches as sleep overtake his lover. Thomas's breathe slows, his eyelashes fluttering delicately against rosy skin as his smirk softens into the barest of smiles. The stress and anxiety of the day's match seemingly vanish as his laugh-lines systematically smooth. 

'Goodnight Thomas.' Robert whispers, closing his eyes and allowing drowsiness to overtake him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'm still figuring this whole writing thing out so let me know what you think. Come find me at [here](thomasmxller.tumblr.com)


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